


Three times (and a half)

by karadeniz



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: And really, Eist proposed to Calanthe three times, F/M, because it's what we deserve, happy family dynamics, who wouldn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-19 00:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22302478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karadeniz/pseuds/karadeniz
Summary: The annals of Cintra are not that interesting, so Eist and Ciri push the definition of a history lesson a little.You know The Princess Bride movie? Yeah, it's a little bit like that.
Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach
Comments: 33
Kudos: 123





	1. Prologue

"This is so _boring_."

"Agreed."

Her grandfather, who sat across from her, looked just as unenthusiastic as she did. He had offered to help her study the annals of Cintra, though Ciri was sure he'd done so only to be excused from the court business her grandmother was attending to right now, which he often found quite as tedious.

"Can't we go outside instead?"

Eist seemed tempted enough, but he never got to make a decision, because at that point the third person in the room with them spoke up.

"The queen would have your head, my king." Mousesack didn't even raise his head from his book. "And she told me specifically to make sure you don't go soft on her."

Ciri groaned.

It was spring, and she could hear the birds chirping in the gardens outside, the sun flooding through the open window. She shifted a little, and tried again.

"We could be back before court ends. You said you'd teach me sparring once the snow had melted away. You promised," she reminded him.

Eist did seem genuinely apologetic as he replied.

"Sorry, pup, but the druid is right. Your grandmother is a firm believer in duty before pleasure, and while she won't have my head, I might get banned from the marital bed indefinitely... and a man needs his affection."

Ciri did not know what that meant, being only ten years of age since winter, but she knew that she did not want to ponder on it, either.

"Then tell me something else. Something interesting." She saw two songbirds fluttering by, entangled in a merry dance. "Tell me how you met Grandmama. That'll surely count as a history lesson, won't it?"

Eist looked at her for a second and she stared back at him, unwaveringly, and so much like her grandmother's glare that it made him laugh.

"You're half her size but you're twice as stubborn. Heavens have mercy on me! Fine, I surrender."

In his corner, Mousesack shook his head.

* * *

_It had been a year and a day after King Roegner's passing. On the 366th day, the citizens of Cintra began to publicly play music again and their queen stored away her black mourning dress in exchange for a midnight blue one with fine embellishments. Eist had spent all his life on the Isles or at sea, and never before had he visited Cintra or laid his eyes on its queen. He'd have to lie to say he hadn't expected the praises sung of her boldly exaggerated. But now, standing in the hall of her palace, a little offside from the festivities of the banquet, he had to concede they weren't far-fetched at all. From what he'd seen, she was just as striking as people had told him, both in looks as in charisma._

_"You know," a voice came from his right, "you might be the only unwed man in this room who has not tried to make any advances yet, jarl of Skellige. The baron of Whyl has proposed twice this night alone, and he is very much married."_

_He looked down at the queen of Cintra, who had quietly appeared at his side and was now watching the high jinks of the mostly drunken crowd._

_"Any woman, and most certainly a queen, could easily take offense in that."_

_"Forgive me, your majesty. I meant no offense."_

_He said no more, so she finally turned her head to him, mustering him with a pleasant smile that almost deflected from the keen look in her eyes._

_"Are you not interested in an alliance between Skellige and Cintra?"_

_"I am a naval commander, your majesty. My brother, the king, handles the politics."_

_"I see. They say you prefer travelling the sea rather than committing yourself to a woman. Quite an odd choice, if you ask me."_

_"Not very odd, my queen. The sea and women are not so different."_

_She raised her eyebrows at his words._

_"Is that so? She seems like a rather poor mistress, who can't keep a man's bed warm at night."_

_"She also swallows men whole if they're fool enough to underestimate her."_

_He looked down at her again and saw amusement twinkle in her eyes then. He couldn't help the smile, finding himself entirely enamored._

_"And are you a fool, Eist Tuirseach?"_

_She really was quite beautiful, and in that moment, for the first time in his life, he was not sure if he would rather be on a ship, or here._

_"I suppose I'll have to find out."_

_She scrutinized him a moment longer with sharp, dark eyes, before her lips pulled into a half-smirk and, with one last look, left him to stand alone again. He watched her walk away through the crowd, her stride as powerful and unrelenting as a stormy sea, and then let out a huffed laugh, because he was hit by the sudden realisation that the queen had no intention of getting married to anyone, any time soon._

* * *

"I don't get it."

Ciri's brows were furrowed deeply as she stared at her grandfather, but he just smiled fondly.

"Well, you see, your grandmother was being very smart. She knew that, by the law of Cintra, a woman alone could not hold the title of Queen Regent forever. Especially with only a female heir to show for. So after King Roegner passed, every nobleman looked at her kingdom and saw either a land to rule, or to overthrow. She could have decided on one to marry and be done with it, but she really did not want to hand over power just yet. So she kept up a game of pretense, making every man feel like he might eventually become the new king, without ever settling on one, until one day Pavetta would be old enough to take the throne, and a husband."

"That's... shrewd."

"That's Calanthe," Eist replied, not disagreeing.

"So, what happened then?"

"Nothing. The banquet ended and I returned to the Isles."

"And then he went back, again. And again and again," Mousesack murmured, "and again. There was quite a betting pool going on in Skellige, princess, I can assure you."

She exchanged an amused look with the druid before turning her attention back to her grandfather.

"Well, what took you so long? If you liked her so much, why didn't you just propose?"

Mousesack began to snicker from his spot in the corner. "Oh, he did." He held up a number of fingers for her to see.

**_"Three times?"_ **


	2. The First

_He stepped through the archway, towards the royal hall. People greeted him in passing -- he'd been to Cintra a few times now, and made friendly acquaintanceships during his visits. Once he reached the hall, he stopped dead in his tracks._

_"Oh, dear god."_

_In the middle of the hall stood a painting, easily two meter in length and width, portraying nothing but an oversized nobleman, looking rather pompous and tacky._

_"It's--"_

_"-- a monstrosity."_

_Calanthe had appeared next to him, glowering at the canvas as if she wanted to set it alight with the force of her mind alone._

_"Why is it still here! Hey, you," she called to a servant, "didn't I order you to get rid of that awful thing already? Cut it up if you have to."_

_She turned on her heels, striding towards the door that was leading out into the gardens. Eist didn't need an invitation, he knew he was supposed to follow._

_Together, they made their way down the hallway. Calanthe was still fuming._

_"So," he began, "how did you get your hands on such an, um, interesting piece? Bad buy?" he quipped._

_"Funny." She shot him a glare from the corner of her eyes, but seemed a little less irate. "It was a gift. Ervyll of Verden thinks he can persuade me into marrying him by demonstrating his peacocking to me, repeatedly. Sending me a portrait of himself, I have to laugh." _

_He suddenly felt an inexplicable dislike for a man he's never met._

_"Are you considering it?"_

_"Ha, a hundred arrows on my body first! The goodwill of his kingdom is of strategic importance to us, I am aware. But, that man--" They rounded a corner and stepped out into the sunlight. "I shall consider myself lucky, I suppose, that he did not arrive in person. At least I can easily dispose of him this way. If I have to look at the man's condescending face one more time--"_

_Calanthe let out a huff before her voice turned milder. "You, however, are a sight for sore eyes." She halted in her steps to turn and look at him. "It's been months. Have you gotten bored of Cintra already?"_

_Had it actually been months? Time at sea passed in flows and waves, entire days blurred together, and he was reluctant to admit, even to himself, how often he'd thought of her, when the sea rocked their ship in quiet mockery._

_"I could never grow bored of Cintra in such fine company."_

_She looked pleased by his reply and began walking again. It was late spring, and the trees stood in full bloom. Stepping into the garden facilities was like stepping into a parallel world, so different from the city itself, which was all stone, practical and defendable, or the bleak landscape of the Isles that he called home. Calanthe didn't stop to look at any flowers, or to enjoy the sound of the songbirds. She was all Cintra-- all practical, no pomp._

_"My mother loved the gardens," she told him, as if having heard his thoughts. "So I'm having them taken care of, in her memory. But I'm becoming rather restless from this blissful peacefulness, so shall we head back inside?"_

_Calanthe looked very satisfied when they re-entered the throne room and found the canvas gone._

_"It is ironic, really," she said."When I was a teenager, my parents had trouble finding anyone willing to marry me, since my reputation had been... lacking. And now, I feel like I'm being circled by wolves driveling at the prospect of gaining this kingdom. Through marriage, or through force. And the most ironic thing? If I had a husband by my side, they wouldn't even dare to leer. One would think being the lioness would keep away a pack of hungry wolves. And yet--"_

_It wasn't bitterness, she was too proud for that. But he knew there was a wrong to be rightened, an injustice suffered that was making her hands tremble ever so slightly._

_"But for what it's worth," she continued, "it is only a few more years until Pavetta will be old enough to be married and ascend to the throne, and I shall be the one to decide the match. I will not put my daughter's fate in the hands of any man, and certainly not an outsider. So, until then, I simply have to keep a smile on my face and the sword in my hand."_

_"Marry me, then." The words came as unexpected to him as they did to her, because he could hear her breath hitch. He hadn't meant to say it, couldn't remember even thinking them, but he pressed on, "Marry me. I would never take that choice from you."_

_Her eyes were wide, their usual edge gone. Then she laughed, a little breathless._

_"As tempting as it sounds, your disdain for marriage and being tied down makes me have to decline. Shackling you to this kind of life? I would feel rather bad about it." She pulled the corner of her mouth into a smile, and said, with her voice lowered dramatically, "I shall have to fend off the wolves myself for now."_

_He nodded. Was he relieved? Or disappointed? Possibly neither. Maybe both._

_"So how is your daughter?"_

* * *

Ciri wrinkled her nose.

"Not to be mean, but you really could have made more of an effort. No gifts, no flowers! At least the other Sir what's-his-name left an impression."

She crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair.

Eist perked his eyebrows at her, before quipping, "And who raised you to be this pert?"

She grinned, "You did."

"Ah," he chuckled. "I'm beginning to have regrets. Do you see this, old friend?" he said, turning to Mousesack, "I'm being mocked by a ten year old child."

Ciri began to giggle at her grandfather's outraged face that was so clearly feigned. "You still have two more tries to redeem yourself."


	3. The Second

_"When were you going to tell me you're leaving for Skellige to fight Kovir?"_

_He looked up from the wooden chest he was almost done packing._

_"I only got word this morning that Kovir has been attacking our ships repeatedly in the last few weeks. They want to expand their trading routes without any consideration for ours. And they seem to be unwilling to compromise, so as Jarl, I must return."_

_Her body seemed to vibrate with whatever emotions she was keeping pent up._

_"Fine," she said curtly. "Good fortunes for your undertaking, Sir Eist." And with that, she turned on her heels and marched out again._

_He needed a moment to process, before he leapt to his feet and followed her. He caught up with her halfway down the corridor._

_"Calanthe," he said, reaching for her wrist to turn her back to face him. She pulled her hand free and crossed her arms, but she stayed._

_"I don't want to go, either. If the king hadn't requested my return... ." He tentatively reached out again and placed his hand on her arm. "We are well prepared. No one can navigate the seas like us from the Isles. We'll be fine."_

_She scoffed. "One can never be well prepared for battle, and you know it."_

_He nodded. She was a warrior, too, no encouraging words could fool her._

_"I'll return, soon. I always do."_

_He had never felt this reluctant to go, and he traced her face with his eyes, trying to memorise every detail. She had such a fierceness to her, so much well earned bravado, it made the softness of her face go unnoticed until one really looked. But that was all he could do now -- to look. If he were to die, and to chose one last thing to lay his eyes upon, this would be it.  
_

_Instinctively, he leaned down and kissed her, just a brush, before pulling back again, trying to read the expression on her face. It could have meant anything._

_But then she took a hold of his tunic and pulled him back down. His lips crashed into hers. She let out a gasp as her back hit the wall, and the tip of her tongue met his, as her hands entangled in his hair, the firm grasp sending sensations down his spine that --_

* * *

" _Ew_ , gross!!" Ciri exclaimed, pressing her hands over her ears while shooting daggers at her grandfather. "I so do not wanna hear that! Just.. skip that entire part."

The look on her grandfather's face told her he considered embarrassing her way too entertaining for his own sake to refrain from doing so in the future, but for now, he let it go.

"Alright, fine. We got interrupted shortly afterwards, anyway"

"I remember," Mousesack muttered, "and I still wish I--"

* * *

_"-- didn't... didn't realise, I didn't know." The druid looked like he wished the ground would open up underneath him, trying to look anywhere but the two people he'd just stumbled into, "I'll just excuse myself. But, uh, sir, your men are asking for you. I think they want to board the ship soon."_

_"Yes, thank you, Mousesack. I'll be right there." He sounded a lot more composed than expected, apart from the subtle shortness of breath. The queen looked like she was trying to will away the embarrassment of the situation, her cheeks flushed pink. It looked... sweet, and he knew he was never going to say that to her face if he wanted to live._

_"Well, that wasn't mortifying at all," she said finally. "Tell me everything you have on the druid, so I can make sure this story never crosses his lips."_

_He smiled at that. "You don't have to worry. He can be a bit of a gossip but he's also loyal to a fault, he would never do something to harm your reputation, or mine."_

_"If you say so. Safe travels, Eist. Come back in one piece."_

_"Is that an order?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Then consider it done."_

_She leaned forwards to place a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, and he watched her leave until she rounded the corner and disappeared._

* * *

"Wait, where was the proposal?"

Her grandfather shrugged. "You wouldn't have missed it if you hadn't told me to skip the best part."


	4. The Third (and a half)

_Cintra was celebrating its annual harvest festival, and the queen had extended her invitations unto him. Four years had passed after the death of the king; four years of Calanthe holding reign over her kingdom, four years of tentative courtship. The celebration was at its height, the beer that had been flowing freely and the music filling the richly decorated throne hall all contributing to the merry mood. He kept a close eye on his nephew, who was a good lad, but had the rough temper famous for the Isles._

_The only two people who seemed not to enjoy the festivities were the two women seated to his right. Calanthe smiled plenty, but he'd noticed the tension in her jaw, and the hard look in her eyes the moment he'd arrived. Her daughter was sitting next to him, and she did not even try to pretend she was fine. He had come to learn that, while Calanthe loved her daughter fiercely, their personalities did not make for a good combination, and led to them to butting heads more often than not._

_Calanthe was sitting too far away from him to discreetly talk to her, and she would not want to address anything too personal in a setting like this, anyway, so he turned to Pavetta instead._

_"You know, celebrations are supposed to be fun."_

_"I'm a princess," she replied curtly, "I'm not allowed to have fun. In fact, I'm not allowed to have a free mind at all. I'm to be trapped here until I marry whomever my mother deems fit."_

_Ah, he thought. So that was the issue._

_"As a man, and a second born son, I'm afraid there isn't much I can say, for I wouldn't know the burden you must feel. I've always had the freedom of choice. But, your mother only wants what is best for you. She wouldn't do anything to make you unhappy if she can avoid it."_

_"Then you don't know my mother very well," she retorted. "My mother could have been born a man, for all I know, she navigates the rules of the land so easily. No, more than that: She thrives on them."_

_He could not deny it. Calanthe had every quality any man could only wish to possess. But--_

_"So will you, princess. You are of extraordinary blood. And you may not be the same as her, but you possess your own force. Give it some time, and you'll find that that'll make you as powerful as you need to be to forge your own path."_

_Pavetta raised her eyes to him in surprise, and he saw a shimmer of hope in them. He smiled back at her, and then caught the attention of a strawberry blonde lad from the Isles, who he gestured to come over. He turned back to Pavetta and said, "This is Skander. He's one of our land's finest dancers. Which, I have to warn you, doesn't say much. But I think you would enjoy it, anyway."_

_The boy did a little bow in the princess's direction, and with one last look back at Eist, who gave her an encouraging nod, she got up and joined the dancing crowd._

_He watched them fondly, before he heard the chair next to him creak. Calanthe had taken her daughter's seat._

_"You're good with her. I had expected her to sit here sulking in my direction the entire evening."_

_She tried to sound nonchalant but he could see it was nagging at her._

_"I'm an uncle to a whole bunch of nephews and nieces, so I speak from experience: It is always easier when you're not the parent."_

_She gave a little sound from the back of her throat, and he was hit by the urge to reach out to ease away the tension he could see on her face with a brush of his fingers. Instead, he said, "I could do with a little bit of fresh air. Care to join me?"_

_They walked into a courtyard, only lit by the sparse light coming from a window._

_"I don't enjoy it, you know? I have no intention to antagonise her so. But she's royalty, she'll be expected to reign over this kingdom soon. If I cannot prepare her for that, I have failed not only as a queen, but as a mother."_

_"I know," he said softly._

_"And she's so soft, and naive. Idealistic. So much like her father."_

_He reached out to move a strand of hair that had come loose back over her shoulder._

_"Put more faith in your daughter, Calanthe. There's a strength in her softness, too. How could there not be, she's of your blood. She'll be alright."_

_The look she gave him was skeptical, but she didn't argue. Instead, she said, "Your nephew, Crach an Craite, he is a good boy, yes?"_

_"I would say so. A little rowdy, but an honorable lad in his core."_

_"Then I believe Pavetta should wed him."_

_"Crach?" He couldn't see it. It was like picturing a fine jasmine and a log._

_"Yes," Calanthe said impatiently, "Cintra needs a strong alliance, there is no pretending for it to be otherwise anymore. The nation of Skellige has the finest navy on this continent, you said so yourself. Considering all the options, I believe that is the best way I can go for my kingdom, and my daughter -- the boy respects you, so I can trust you to smack some sense into him if he were to treat her not right."_

_"I certainly would," he confirmed, and he meant it._

_"Wonderful. That's settled then."_

_They were quiet for a moment._

_"And what about you?"_

_"What do you mean?" she asked._

_"Do you plan on getting remarried?"_

_She shook her head. "Probably not."_

_"Not even when the prospect of a powerful alliance would present itself?" he asked quietly._

_"Speak your mind, Eist."_

_"If Pavetta and Crach marry, your alliance with Skellige will be ensured. There... will be no need for a second one. If the safety of your kingdom called for it, would you consider marrying another nobleman?"_

_She looked at him for a moment, weighing his words. Then she broke eye contact and it was answer enough. He sighed._

_"I wish to marry you, Calanthe. Today, or in a year, it doesn't matter. If you never said yes, I know I could bear it, too. But I could not bear losing you to another man. If that was your decision, I would accept it, but... I love you."_

_The faint light of the castle reflected in her eyes which were wide as she stared at him. Then she reached out and pulled him into the shadows of the archway, and kissed him, kissed him senseless._

_"I won't marry anyone else." Her breath was hot on his face. "I'm not saying I'm marrying you yet, or at all. But if I were to marry, it'll be you. I promise. I swear it."_

_He thought he might have been the happiest man in the world in that moment._

* * *

When he finished, Ciri had put her chin on her hand, smiling at her sappy grandfather, before a thought occurred to her.

"Hold on, you said you proposed three times. But that was the third time already and grandmama still hasn't said yes. How can that be?"

"Because your grandfather is a wily bastard, that's why."

They all turned at the familiar voice and saw Queen Calanthe leaning casually against the doorframe, eyebrows raised and her signature half-smirk playing around her lips.

"I thought I told you not to let them get sidetracked, Mousesack," she addressed the man as she pushed herself away from the frame, striding through the room and flopped gracefully into a chair. "Great job!" 

"My apologies, your majesty," the druid replied. 

Ciri looked back and forth between her grandmother and Eist, who had a sly smile on his face now, too, as he caught his wife's eye.

"So, what happened the fourth time?"

"There was no fourth time, because he didn't ask. At your mother's betrothal feast, your grandfather saw his chance and he took it, announcing our marriage to a room full of people. It was ballsy, I give him that."

"It was not, really." He spoke very softly. "We knew that that night was supposed to end in an alliance between Cintra and Skellige. We've just been tiptoeing around each other for so long we got distracted from that it was meant to be us, always."

Ciri saw a faint blush appear on her grandmother's face which she was obviously trying to school into an expression of sobriety. Eist, on the other hand, looked at his wife with unabashed affection.

Mousesack's little cough ended the moment, and Calanthe got up, smoothing out her dress before leaning forward and giving Ciri a kiss on her head.

"I believe this was enough of a break, my child. Go back to studying."

"And you," she turned to her husband, "no more distracting the girl, or I won't be this lenient with you next time."

"Is that a promise?"

Her grandmother rolled her eyes, but leaned down, too, to press a kiss to her husband's lips, where she lingered, just a moment. When she pulled back, she gave him another pointed look, though.

"No. Distractions."

When she'd disappeared, Ciri turned back to her grandfather and Mousesack.

"So, what else have you not been telling me that could count as a history lesson?"

Eist laughed out loud, while the druid shook his head at her but couldn't hide the smirk.

"Well, Ciri," her grandfather said, "now you know that, even if it might seem fruitless for most of the time, if you ever find the love of your life, it's worth holding onto it. Because things will fall into place. Even if it takes three tries."

"Three and a half."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it, my attempt to bring all the little hints from Episode 4 and A Question of Price together into a backstory.  
> thank you so much to everyone who's read this story, and left kudos 🌻🌻 i appreciate them so much!!!
> 
> if anyone wants to talk about how much they love them, please (!) hit me up: karadenizin.tumblr.com


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